The Envelope
by wolfheart105
Summary: This is a tale of an assassin who has had a terrible home life, and risks his life every day. Each book will be a hard mission and the assassin will meet hardships everywhere he goes on his way to complete his mission. Rated T: Violence and swearing
1. Chapter 1

This is a standalone. If you like James Bond or Jason Borne this is the fic for you. This is my first work. Please don't be too harsh. I look forward to seeing your reviews.

There they were. The big bold underlined red letters on the crusty yellow envelope.

 **CLASSIFIED**

That's all it said and that was all that needed to be said. I picked up the frightening paper and snatched the small letter opener from my hotel nightstand. I slid the sharp blade across the top of the wretched paper, and reached inside. I've always dreaded this moment. The moment that I must look at the picture of the person who will soon no longer have a family to go to, a dog to pet, or a boss to serve. I despise the moment when I take a look at the picture and small profile and always wonder if I will be in one of those small capsules of doom.

I love my job. I really do. I get paid well, I get all the girls, fancy suits, everything. The only hard part about it is when I have to take that from someone else. Every time I think about my job, it's always about quitting, or actually doing my job. The only problem is, I can't quit. If I do, I'll die. They'll kill me.

BANG! My door flew open. In came five men dressed in all black suits. They all raised up Five Seven pistols with silencers on them. I was in the middle of burning the papers when they walked in. Without skipping a beat, I told them I liked a good smoke. They simply stared.

"Would some tea suit your fancy or would you prefer water?"

They open fire. I hear the suppressed shots behind me as I run into the room right next to me. There was a bathroom in there that had a window I could use to climb out and escape. As I open the window, I hear the door behind me opening. I then reach to my side and pull out my small MP5. I fire off an entire clip into the door until the shooting stops. As my adrenaline slows, I open the door to see five now stained in red suits on bodies that I have created.

After leaving the hotel and giving the maid a rather large tip, I set off towards my favorite spot for plotting the death of my targets. After all, I am an assassin.

My favorite spot was in a very remote area down by the sea where I had bought a few miles of the land just so that I could have some privacy. In a small cabin, where I have all of my mission logs. If my boss found this spot I would be dead in a week. I look over at the North wall as I sit on my velvet couch and think about how I will accomplish my next mission.

My target has an interesting profile. A man in his late thirties, and is obsessed with his safety. Travels on high ground as much as possible and never goes in a pattern. He wears a bulletproof vest wherever he goes and never rides public transportation. This overly difficult man also happens to be a speaker of many campaigns that are dedicated to safety and is most likely a germaphobe. Although this man tries as hard as possible to not create a pattern, I should probably start looking for one no matter how small.

Ahh...Nothing like the wind in your hair and the smell of coffee in the morning. As I sit in a rather large tree watching the target's house, I slowly drink from my coffee that I had made earlier. I see the steam from my breath curl in the morning air as I think about my old home...

BANG! CRASH! BOOM! I run out of the kitchen into my room with my dad running behind me with his leather belt. I get in my room just in time to shut the door and run to my closet. I knew it wouldn't do much good if he wanted to get in but I was desperate. I hear the door to my room open slowly and I reach up to lock the bolt on my closet door when I hear my father's big, deep, booming voice. "If you come out now it'll be much faster and easier." I knew it was a lie. Why would I fall for something like that? I fell for it. I opened the door timidly and was ready to face the wrath of my father when my mother came in to save the day. I would never forget this day. My dad had just come home from another long night at work and the bar. He was drunk as a monk and was pissed at everything that happened anytime that happened. So as I go to make him some mac and cheese to cheer him up, I dropped a couple pans in the process, one thing led to another and here my mom is coming to the rescue. I see her step into the room and she simply looks and father and says,"You are drunk and need to go to bed. It was an accident. I think you ought to just go to bed." My father raised his arm, and before I knew what was happening, my mom was on the ground and my father was on top of her and reaching for his eight inch buck knife that I had gotten him for Christmas one day. I stood stock still as I watched my mother scream in pain as blows after blows of knife slashes came one after another. Finally, it stopped. I remember that day all too well. The day that my mother died and I wanted to put all my life into getting revenge on my terrible father. Everyday though it resonates in my head that if I hadn't dropped a single pan when I was six years old, then maybe my mother would still be alive and I wouldn't have the job that I do.

I get woken up from my daydream as I hear a whirring sound of a garage door opening. Three giant black vans pulled out of the gigantic garage and immediately started to roll out of the driveway. I couldn't remember the lights ever being turned on. It could've been my daydreaming or just me not paying attention. On goes the cars toward the West. I watch as they disappear in the distance.

Slowly I begin to climb down off of the tree I was up in. One hand down. Bring the foot down. Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot. The only bad part was that the last time I went to set my foot down on a branch halfway down on the tree, it didn't connect with anything. Down. That is where I went. I could feel the weightlessness of myself as I went hurtling through the air. Sticks, leaves, and branches all slapping me in the face, arms, back, and legs on my way down. It all seemed slow motion and I knew in the back of my mind that soon I would hit the ground. I just wasn't expecting it when it did come.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat there for a while. It hurt. Not as bad as a gunshot or the multiple amounts of torture that I have experienced but I couldn't move. After about ten minutes I finally decided to get up. Slowly and painfully I roll over onto my stomach and push myself up. When I was finally standing, I bent down towards the ground to pick up my rifle. It wasn't there. So I looked up and I saw it. It seemed as if it were at the top of the tree. So I began to climb. Well I tried anyway. On the way down I snapped off the branch that helped me up to begin with. Looking for something around me that could help m into the tree, I found a shed.

It was an old shed behind the cover of a few trees. Vines were growing on it and there was moss everywhere. Behind the shed there was a small creek that ran alongside the road. The door was on the side opposite the creek. It was a large old looking run down barn door. As I went to open the door, it wouldn't budge. It seemed to be boarded up from the inside. I walked around the shed looking for a sort of hole. After not finding any other opening, I walked back around to the door. Thats when I noticed that the door was rotted on one side. I walked over to that side and started kicking the door. But I didn't kick it for long. My legs from the fall were weak and it hurt too much to bust through the door. So I looked around for a large sturdy stick or branch.

After about five minutes looking for one, I finally found something suitable for the job. I went to work on the door. The door started to splinter almost immediately. After hitting the door close to one hundred times, It finally gave way with a hole large enough to crawl through. The door was thicker than it seemed but once I went through, I was a bit disappointed. It looked like just a normal broken down shed with nothing of consequence in it. It was nearly empty but the place made me a bit suspicious.

The outside walls were about a foot and a half thick and it was a lot smaller on the inside than it seemed. There were a lot of bookshelves with few books. There was only one tool on the tool rack and it is just a hammer held up by a few nails. There was also a small hatchet stuck into a log close to a bookshelf. It all seemed a bit strange so I went to pick up the hatchet. I couldn't pick it up so I went to shimmy it out. I pulled it in one direction when I heard something clicked.

It was a strange sound like a switch. I pulled a bit more and the bookshelf swung inward with a strange hissing sound. It was a lot brighter in there than the rest of the shed so it took a while for my eyes to adjust. There were stairs going down towards the direction opposite the door. I began to walk down the stairwell. The stairs turned around in a large square for what seemed like miles. It took a long time to get down but when I got to the bottom, it was well worth the walk.


End file.
